


smash the hourglass 'cause we're running out of time

by AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Cheating, Dubious Morality, Ethical Dilemmas, F/M, Fake Marriage, Family Drama, Gen, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed/pseuds/AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed
Summary: There are times in Coralee's life when she can't help but question all that she's been taught and whether or not she's doing it right.





	smash the hourglass 'cause we're running out of time

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of lengthy and brilliant tumblr meta

She could smell him before she saw him.

Even with the heavy scent of alcohol and cigarettes permeating the bar, his cologne, expensive, overpowering and dizzying still found its way to her through the smoke and haze.

“Warren.” His name fell from her lips like an anvil just as she felt his hand brush her hair to one side.

“Coralee,” he replied with a kiss carefully placed just behind her ear. “Mrs. Strand,” he added as a teasing afterthought.

“You're late.”

“Sorry. Traffic was murder.” He settled onto the barstool next to her, arm draped across her shoulder.

“You know I can't stay long,” she told him.

“I do. What's going on so far?” His eyes, an alluring hazel-green with an otherworldly edge to them, bore into her.

She sighed, signaling for another drink from the bartender. He quickly gleaned the meaning behind her actions.

“Nothing? Not even on the night of the wedding, adrenaline rushing, passion flaring…” he trailed off with a drawl, his voice rhythmic as her mind drifted.

Warren’s voice was...odd. It was like a drug, fogging your senses, slinking past your defenses and rendering you speechless. It was silk and sweet words, but no one ever knew how genuine.

Richard's voice was different. It was like velvet, coaxing sleep and relaxation, a lulling drone that made you feel safe.

She was never sure which she preferred.

“Not really,” she answered colorlessly. “I don't think he likes...sex.”

“Hm.” Warren gazed up into the light hanging over them. “That does throw a wrench into things. He has a daughter though, doesn't he? From his college fling?”

Coralee had to suppress a smile at the thought of Charlie, young, bright, and ready to love her new mother. “Yes, he does.”

“I suppose she can be used in a pinch.” Warren seemed disgruntled at the idea. “Still, keep trying.” His impatient tone grated on her.

“I am,” she said irritatedly. “I don’t think he wants any more children at the moment. We’ve only been married for a few months; it’d be odd if I pushed him before at least a year or two had passed.”

“We don’t have time, Coralee,” he warned her.

“I know we don’t!” she snapped before she could compose herself.

“Warren,” she tried again, more patient this time. “We have decades before it’s too late. I understand you want to be prepared, but being prepared forty years in advance may not happen.”

A scowl twisted his handsome face. “Very well.”

She checked her watch. Richard would be expecting her to be home in two hours before he started calling. “I have to go,” she said, standing.

“Coralee-” His hand caught her wrist in a firm grip. She met his gaze.

“Can you spare a few minutes for me?” he asked, that drug-like voice seeping into her mind, the tension melting from her.

“I think so,” she said quietly.

A crooked smile, the kind a man with bad intentions would give, spread across his face.

“Shall we?” he said, rising from his seat.

She mirrored his smile, giving him all the answer he needed.

* * *

She only felt guilty later, when she got home, when she found Charlie already asleep in her bed and Richard near to dreaming in an armchair.

She gently nudged him awake. “Richard?” she whispered. He jerked back to full consciousness. His piercing blue eyes focused on her blearily.

“Ah. You're home.” He gave her a somewhat drowsy smile. She tried smiling back, but it felt plastered on.

None of that now, Coralee, she scolded herself.

“Yes, I am,” she said, undoing the tie he was still wearing, “Why don't you go onto bed? I'll be there soon.”

“I have a lot of work to do,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair, “I was just waiting for you to get home so I knew you were alright.”

She tried to ignore the twinge in her heart when he said that. She really did.

“Are you sure? You look dead on your feet; maybe work should wait.” Before he could protest, she took his hand. “Come on. I missed you today.”

He wavered. “Well...alright.”

Either he was too exhausted to argue or she’d really convinced him; she hoped it was the former as she coaxed him towards their bedroom, feeling rather drained herself.

* * *

_She could see him now, from the cafe table she sat at. He looked just like the picture Warren had given her, coupled with a few thousand folders and papers._

_She’d been waiting for months. His father had carefully taught her everything necessary about him, his likes, his dislikes, stressing the importance of maintaining her cover. Warren had called her about two hours ago, told her to get in position._

_Once he was within thirty feet, she got up from the table, striding towards him. Brian, one of her ‘helpers,’ made a beeline for her, purposefully knocking into her. Prepared, she tumbled into her target._

_He dropped the coffee he was holding, and it spilled onto the sidewalk. The papers in his hand nearly fell with it._

_“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” she said, catching a few folders from the stack he was carrying. “I’m really sorry, that guy came out of nowhere-”_

_“It’s-it’s fine,” he said, fumbling with the stack._

_“Here, let me.” She took part of the pile, which enabled him to get his bearings and compose himself. Mumbling a word of thanks, he took the folders back from her._

_“Are you alright?” she asked._

_“I’m fine, and yourself?” He looked up at her._

_She never knew what his eyes looked like outside of a photograph, and the pictures didn’t do him justice._

_His eyes were a startling blue, focused and bright, framed by two simple panes of glass and she felt like they were looking into her, tearing through her soul and mind and gathering as much information as possible._

_“I’m-I’m fine,” she answered him._

_She needed to look away before his eyes swallowed her completely._

_“Can I buy you a new coffee?” she offered, looking down at the puddle around their feet._

_“It’s...it’s tea, actually.”_

_“Then can I buy you more tea?” she pushes, not willing to give up._

_He shook his head, attempting to push up his glasses. “I’ll get it. Don’t-”_

_“Please, I feel horrible about bumping into you,” she protested. “The cafe I just came from is incredible; I really have to insist…” she trailed off._

_“If you truly insist,” he relented._

_She tried to look as though she was relaxing. “Great. Come on then, Mr.-?” She already knew his name; she’d known it for ages._

_“Call me Richard.”_

_She smiled disarmingly at him. “Richard it is.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Comment/kudos, please!


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